"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
03-14-2018, 04:42 PM (This post was last modified: 03-14-2018, 04:44 PM by Sabra.)
The time has come for action. Her people wander, bored with the sedation that lingers under their canopy. She has an answer for this. It is with this intent that she calls her meeting.
The gathered stallions are a burly lot, each of them capable warriors in their own ways. They would not be here otherwise, and yet they have had no fight since she had taken control of the kingdom. Her son stands nearby, encouraged to pay attention and learn the ways of the kingdom's defenders.
"Greetings, Warriors of Sylva! It's been quiet as of late, hasn't it? I intend for us to change that. We must have progress, or else these woods may as well become another Taiga. It's time your skills were tested. Bring me others, willingly or not. At least one from each kingdom. As well, we must determine which of you will stand above the rest, and become my Hellhound. If this is a career change you'd be interested in, speak up." She paused after this decree, waiting on their responses.
Once that was sorted out, she turned to Kwartz, gesturing for the colt to cone forward. "My son will be a yearling this spring. As such, I request that one of you take him on as an apprentice. A prince of Sylva must know the ways of war." She eyed each of them in turn, wondering who would decide himself a suitable mentor for the painted prince.
So when his Queen calls him and the others to the heart of the forest, he answers her promptly. He maneuvers his way through the forest until he finds the beautiful opal queen. As she speaks to them, he listens intently. With the mention of being Hellhound, his ears perk excitedly - leader of the army? He’d want nothing more.
He steps forward, and with a devilish grin addresses her. ”My queen, I’d be honored to be considered for the role as Hellhound. I will prove my utmost loyalty to you,” He states, giving a calculated pause. He glances over to Kwartz. ”And I would also be happy to show the prince the ways of a warrior if you would allow me to, Queen.” After he speaks his peace, he steps back, hoping she would accept his offer.
Between the Alliance and, the Beqanna Games, Jesper’s days had been busy. The midnight hued stallion lost track of how many days ago he pledged himself to Sylva and, the pearl general. When her call reaches tufted lobes, he is near the eastern edge. The ash of Taiga still floats about here and, stirs a curiosity in the ebony equine. Soft sigh escapes nares as Jesper supposes this is one more thing he needs to learn about Beqanna. That list is quite long.
Poll lifts as weight shifts onto hind pillars and, chassis pivots to the left and, redirects forehand towards the center of his home. Hindquarters engage to push male into a lofty lope as he navigates the trail to Sabra. He settles into an easy jog as the smaller form of Modicum Mortem comes into view. Drawing to a square halt alongside the similar colored beast, Jesper listens silently. Ceil blue gaze shifts onto the lighter, two-toned colt before poll dips in a bob of respect to both his Queen and, her son. A break in the conversation soon allows raven steed to express himself. With a confident tone, the following words emit from maw.
“I wish to enlist in any upcoming spars to hone my skills. I know that my limits can only expand through new challenges and, tests. I will certainly see to acquiring new recruits. As for Prince Kwartz, I would be happy to be his sparring partner or, practice dummy.” A friendly smile crosses labrums at humor in own words which, Jesper said in hopes of appearing more approachable to the aspiring knight.
03-21-2018, 07:58 AM (This post was last modified: 03-21-2018, 05:29 PM by Klaudius.)
There comes a time when a boy must grow up to be a man... He's been there, done that. Hell, he probably didn't do it right but he was trying. Trying even though some tried to stand in his way...
He had been there. Hidden with the background like some extra prop. Waiting for the right moment. So when he had found his son fluttering about that day, he had taken it upon himself to intervene. A boy should know his father after all.
They had visited. Strolling about the brightly lit canopy of his childhood home. Oh how he did not miss the confinement. It was suffocating to say the least and just when they were to part ways, a call came across the lands. "Mommy's home..." He murmers under his breath. A smirk tugging at his lavender lips.
His amble is such and soon he can hear voices of not the Queen's. Of course she had called upon her council. Making their duties to her known and quickly they come forth, just as he. His was curiousity and his own agenda that bid him to reveal himself to them. When he arrives they have pleaded their allegences already and so he is quick to follow suit. His head held high and wings slick to his sides, he approaches to their left. Coming to rest nearer to Sabra but segragated enough so they all could view him. "Excuse me your Majesty... I do not mean to intrude on you and yours... But, I could take the boy under my wing... I am Ischias' champion afterall," turning his head ever so slightly to better view the few gathered, he waits her reaction. Be it surprise, disgust or anger. He's seen it all before and stood readied.
He had been silent until now, observing from his mother's shadow. She wanted him to learn to be a prince, to know the things a prince should know. As a yearling, battle was an aspect of life he was to be introduced to. He wasn't sure how he felt about it yet. Being trained would keep him busy, but what if he didn't like his mentor? What if he didn't want to fight?
Morty offered to be his mentor first, and the young prince shivered a little. There was something off putting about the man, though mother seemed to trust him. Jesper spoke up next, though not outright offering to take him on. Kwartz liked Jesper. The dark fellow spoke like an old time knight, but was kind and easy to get along with. The painted boy smiled shyly at him.
Before anyone else could speak, they were joined by another man, one that the half grown boy was excited to see. "Klaudius! What are you doing here?" He asked in surprised joy. With a little bounce, he darted towards the big lavender stallion, grinning broadly. He missed the sudden hardening in his mother's face at the Ischian stallions appearance.
Her meeting was interrupted by none other than the purple pain himself. Her ears tipped backward before she could compose herself, eyes glinting dangerously. "Excellent question, Kwartz. What are you doing here, Klaudius? I didn't invite you." Her tail flicked back and forth, uncertain what was going on. Kwartz recognized him, which she did not like at all. When has they met? And why hadn't Kwartz told her? Nevermind his audacity at suggesting that he be the one to take over Kwartz' training. She'd laugh if she wasn't so irritated.
The flame and stone woman stared down the interloper with ferocious inner conflict. She hated him. It was a festering wound that had been eating her soul for more than a year now. But she loved her son. It had taken a few months of depression and soul searching and one night spiked with potent magic. But her love for her... their child, it was bone deep. She fixed him in her gaze a moment longer before shrugging. "Gentleman, Kwartz dear, excuse me a moment. I have to take care of this. The matters of my Hellhound and of my son's training will be decided and announced." Her Arabian heritage shone as she strutted past Klaudius, neck arched and tail carried high. "You, come with me. It's past time we talked." With a challenge in her sapphire eyes, she spun away from him to dart up and away through a break in the canopy. Let him keep up.
Jesper
